Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down for
Form Fiddlers’ Friday, with poetry by
Nolcha Fox, Lynn White,
Stephen Kingsnorth, Sam Calhoun,
Joyce Odam, Sherry Grant/Christina Chin,
and Claire J. Baker
UNDER OVER PASS
Concrete and steel for fast traffic
over willow and wetlands creek—
my dog and I standing at this
civilized-wild life edge.
Concrete and steel for fast traffic
over willow and wetlands creek—
my dog and I standing at this
civilized-wild life edge.
NOVEMBER 30
Frost on railroad track
train only runs on Sunday
that whistle is wind.
Coyotebush green
soon blossoming white nectar
to wake winter bees.
Fallen black-oak leaves
lie sparkling with last night’s freeze,
limned in slant sunlight.
On mossy boulder
winter-green lichen rosettes
like drifted snowflakes.
Dog sniffs for unseen squirrels
in golden oak canopies.
AUTUMN LEAVES
We walked in a bluster of wind-driven
leaves—fundamentals of fall, the cycles
of life and death. We were passing
the old cemetery, its granite headstones
of local provenance. Conversely,
the dead sleep beneath their names,
dates, countries of origin weathering
away, while the stones remain
in place over time.
LESSONS ON AIR
So many speeches, syllables
lost on the wind blustering.
My dog’s quick-slow head-lift,
turn-away, we took the other fork.
Beyond the brush a breath could be
the slow-quick stealth of cougar.
What I remember of the hike
was my dog’s wordless warning.
WHAT KEEPS US WARM
for Heidi
Are we on some kind of psychic telegraph,
blustery weather blowing our thoughts across
the miles? You in your house without a heater —
the power’s out—with just your old dog and cat,
and memories of the pup you gave away.
It’s cold without warmth of a woodstove, and now
there’s a death in your family, and how you
loved that puppy.... You’re moving to a new house
with woodstove but it won’t be finished till spring.
Here, I hope my cordwood lasts that long, with cat
curled in his basket by the fire, my grown pup
curled on the futon like a sled-dog in snow.
May I send my best to you and yours by wind
express. Hope is the flame of tomorrow, and
love of fur creatures can keep a spirit warm.
WHERE DID I LAY THEM DOWN?
Otis
lies at leisure
in his dog den
after our forest trip—
what’s that he’s got with him? my
sunglasses!
_________________
Today’s LittleNip:
PASTURE ETIQUETTE
—Taylor Graham
Angus bull branded
with rocking B—or could it
be a smiley face—
on his broad black butt? my dog
better sense not to ask him.
__________________
The leaves have turned on us, and this week Taylor Graham has written about them and about her forest trip with Otis. Many thanks to her for her fine poems and photos! Forms she has used include a Ryūka (“Under Over Pass”); a Tanka (“Pasture Etiquette”); a Word-Can Poem (“Autumn Leaves”); a Just 15s (“Lessons on Air”); some Normative Syllabics (“What Keeps Us Warm"); a Vignette Form (“Where Did I Lay Them Down?”); and a Haiku Sonnet (“November 30”). The Vignette Form was one of last week’s Triple-F Challenges; our recent Seed of the Week was “Blustery Day”, and you’ll see some references to that.
In El Dorado County’s poetry events this week, El Dorado County’s regular workshops are listed on Medusa’s calendar if you scroll down on http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html/. Plus, Placerville will celebrate International Human Rights Day on Dec. 7, and Poetic License will meet in Placerville on Dec. 9. For more news about EDC poetry—past (photos!) and future—see Taylor Graham’s Western Slope El Dorado Poetry on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ElDoradoCountyPoetry/. Or see Lara Gularte’s Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/groups/382234029968077/. And you can always click on Medusa's UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS (http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.htm/l). Poetry is Gold in El Dorado County!
Speaking of Lara Gularte, she is editing a new publication for Sacramento Poetry Center, called New River Quarterly, which will include poems by members of the Mule Creek State Prison poets’ workshop which Lara facilitates. For more about the journal, including how to obtain a copy, go to https://www.sacpoetrycenter.org/publications-tule-review/. Congratulations, Lara, on such a wonderful project!
And now it’s time for…
FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!
Check out our recently-refurbed page at the top of Medusa’s Kitchen called, “FORMS! OMG!!!” which expresses some of my (take ‘em or leave 'em) opinions about the use of forms in poetry writing, as well as listing some more resources to help you navigate through Form Quicksand and other ways of poetry. Got any more resources to add to our list? Send them to kathykieth@hotmail.com for the benefit of all man/woman/poetkind!
* * *
Last Week’s Ekphrastic Photo
Several poets sent responses to last week’s Ekphrastic photo, including Nolcha Fox, Lynn White, and Stephen Kingsnorth:
LIGHTLY
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
We never know, until it’s too late, that the butter we spread on our toast as we argue about the weather will be the last buttered words we’ll hear. And if we knew, wouldn’t we kiss each other lightly on the lips, hold each other just a little longer?
We never know, until it’s too late, that the leaves skittering across the sidewalk, announcing the coming storm, are the last leaves we’ll see. And if we knew, wouldn’t we stand in the wind, embrace the rain falling lightly on our faces?
We never know, until it’s too late, that this is our last morning light. And if we knew, wouldn’t we smile into the sun?
Wouldn’t we?
(prev. pub. in Medium, 3/24)
* * *
THE LIGHT FANTASTIC
—Lynn White, Blaenau Ffestiniog, North Wales
Everywhere there are light spaces in the winter dark,
places for stars to dance and the moon to beam
but in the north, light casts an artificial glow
bringing psychedelia to the infinite sky
bright light waves in the long night
swirling colours making a mirage,
a dream of daylight in the dark
lighting up the snowy white,
tripping the light fantastic
in waves of colour.
* * *
HUSH THE NOISE
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
It could be borealis, south,
australis in its hemisphere,
but pix in ice land us up north,
(though Baked Alaska comes to mind)
except that, as revealed this year,
that pole is stretching, southern reach.
This stretch is human minds as well,
as many led, investigate
phenomenon not known before—
(and I read news day after show)
while others thought of wasted cruise,
the arctic trip without scene, lights.
Unlike stage lights we trip at will,
is this another climate change,
that poor may view in hidden heights
(where sun throws out waves, energy)
the brighter palette, painted skies,
and research how and why it’s seen?
From black ground, over, outer space,
to ranging colours of the sea,
through red tide bloom of algae wave
(in dancing rainbow curlicues)
to shimmy shine, aquamarine,
a phosphorescence like some seas.
Some worship sun and moon, the stars;
indigenous, did ancients’ scheme
allow this mystery divine,
(as heaven’s supernatural wings)
when mystic curtains played the field,
unearthly lightshow, disco net.
It is that disconnect so wreaked,
a wondrous beauty as am told,
like hush and hear the angels sing,
(to awe-struck shepherds in their folds)
the music of the spheres revered,
when men of strife have quit their claim.
* * *
Michael Brownstein introduced us to the Cherita a while back (https://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/search?q=cherita/), and today we have a surprise visit from Newcomer Sam Calhoun, from Element, AL, who has sent us six of them, along with his original photos:
Quiet evening, a wake low,
I watch the leaves fade
into a dark sky—
Limbs rattling the roof
drum their message
like fever dreams
One wild life I hid
years in the dark grass,
tall, late summer,
waiting all year to burn
like shed fur, sweetgrass
alight, repenting—
* * *
Slip down the window—
White belly against
the dark screen—
Race into the azaleas
waxing gibbous tongue
sliver of night.
years in the dark grass,
tall, late summer,
waiting all year to burn
like shed fur, sweetgrass
alight, repenting—
* * *
Slip down the window—
White belly against
the dark screen—
Race into the azaleas
waxing gibbous tongue
sliver of night.
hum of rain—
a flooded yard riddled
with armadillo burrows—
maple roots creep
the surface like dolphins,
like sharks.
a flooded yard riddled
with armadillo burrows—
maple roots creep
the surface like dolphins,
like sharks.
I hide like eclipses
on the sill of the window
balanced like crescents—
through the blind’s prominence,
the a/c vent scatters
Bailey’s beads in words.
A night of rain
with the street light
out we can’t see
how the darkness
begins to pool
in our eyes.
Sam says he is “an avid gardener and I draw maps for a living. I really enjoy hiking, bird watching, spending any time in nature I can. These poems came as a long series of Cherita I wrote for a month mostly while outdoors or on camping trips during the solar eclipse. I saw you asked for photos too, so I am attaching some of my favorite photos I've taken this past year.” Welcome to the Kitchen, Sam, and don’t be a stranger! (Some of these would fit this week’s Ekphrastic Challenge!) By the way, Sam is all over the Internet—just type in “Sam Calhoun poet”.
* * *
Joyce Odam has sent us a wee Diminuendo (Nature, five lines of descending syllables: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1) which reminds us of the howling on the tundra:
HAUNTINGS
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA
One can hear howlings
out on the moor,
ghost-ridden,
made of
winds.
(prev. pub. in Medusa’s Kitchen, 11/1/11)
* * *
Joyce has also sent us a Rondelet with a lovely repetend: “Teach me your song.”
DISTANCE SONG
—Joyce Odam
Teach me your song,
winds that have known the farthest seas,
teach me your song.
Out of the east you bring along
a nightingale’s tune that distance frees,
leaving me stirred and on my knees.
Teach me your song.
(prev. pub. in Hartford Times, 1961;
and Medusa’s Kitchen, 12/11/09;
10/1/19; 12/8/23)
* * *
Christina Chin from Malaysia and and New Zealander Sherry Grant have sent us two Split Sequences today:
DOUBLE HAPPINESS
—Sherry Grant / Christina Chin (italics)
a snake’s wish
having fangs
one day it may
become immortal
to be breathing fire
a villager’s
panic-stricken eyes
smoke rising
gilded throne
wedding gift
of dragon and phoenix
pairs of chopsticks
—Sherry Grant / Christina Chin (italics)
a snake’s wish
having fangs
one day it may
become immortal
to be breathing fire
a villager’s
panic-stricken eyes
smoke rising
gilded throne
wedding gift
of dragon and phoenix
pairs of chopsticks
A PEASANT’S DREAM
—Christina Chin / Sherry Grant (italics)
the poor woman
deep in prayer
her baby cries
of hunger
keeps telling me if
she has a roof
over their head
a sudden smile
she strikes big
the myth
a sparrow turns
into phoenix
* * *
Claire Baker sent a response to our recent Seed of the Week, "Blustery Day", from an old memory of hers:
—Christina Chin / Sherry Grant (italics)
the poor woman
deep in prayer
her baby cries
of hunger
keeps telling me if
she has a roof
over their head
a sudden smile
she strikes big
the myth
a sparrow turns
into phoenix
* * *
Claire Baker sent a response to our recent Seed of the Week, "Blustery Day", from an old memory of hers:
BLUSTERY
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
Short Feature Between
a Double Feature,
Bethesda, MD, 1937
The little match girl
stands on a dim-lit
village corner,
barely visible in swirling snow,
her shaggy scarf and thin
coat not enough to warm her
She stands waiting,
but no one wants a match
or box of matches.
I’m a youngster, watching
snow freeze her face, her cap
pulled down, near over her eyes.
Her tears
turn to droplets of ice,
a Brahms lullaby,
plaintive, slow as snow
plays on through
until the end.
* * *
This Ars Poetica by Stephen Kingsnorth is a response to this week’s Tuesday Seed of the Week, “Refuge”. Stephen, as you know, suffers from Parkinson’s Disease, and a need for refuge plays a huge part in his life. Well, here—I’ll let him tell you about it:
ACHING TO WRITE
—Stephen Kingsnorth
In verse I take my refuge, pain
from body, to the mind aligned,
a switch in concentration signed
away from aches to playing words.
Without prescription—accident—
a musing when she fills the breach;
averse to poems of disease,
uneasy that my friends so write.
Companions speak in stanza pangs,
complain too much of their complaint,
list glyphs that rhyme with how they hurt,
rehearse the anguish of distress.
They say it is their therapy,
but wallow would be my surmise;
why stake its claim or advertise,
enthrone affliction, give it space?
Now put it in its place say I—
it’s not my taste to elevate
that which I’m seeking to escape,
put out of mind, replace with runes.
So throw those throes where they belong
and come to terms that calm the stings,
an analgesic, sedative,
laudanum, poets, former years.
My gripe is done, a tablet due—
the choice of pill or writing screen.
I’m for the latter, scribing view,
a refuge from dread sickness’ plots.
____________________
Many thanks to today’s writers for their lively contributions! Wouldn’t you like to join them? All you have to do is send poetry—forms or not—and/or photos and artwork to kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post work from all over the world, including that which was previously-published. Just remember: the snakes of Medusa are always hungry!
____________________
TRIPLE-F CHALLENGES!
•••Inverted Refrain: http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/invertedrefrain.html
•••AND/OR follow Joyce Odam’s example above and write a Diminuendo. Remember to make it nature-based:
•••Diminuendo: Nature, five lines of descending syllables: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
•••See also the bottom of this post for another challenge, this one an Ekphrastic one.
•••And don’t forget each Tuesday’s Seed of the Week! This week it’s “Refuge”.
____________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••Ars Poetica: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica
•••Cherita: medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/search?q=cherita
•••Diminuendo: Nature, five lines of descending syllables: 5, 4, 3, 2,
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Haiku Sonnet (four Haiku followed by two lines of seven syllables each): www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/haiku-sonnet-poetic-form
•••Inverted Refrain: http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/invertedrefrain.html
•••Just 15s (devised by Sarah Harding): poem or stanza of 15 syllables
•••Normative Syllabics: hellopoetry.com/collection/108/normative-syllabic-free-verse AND/OR lewisturco.typepad.com/poetics/normative-syllabic-verse
•••Repetend (rep-eh-TAHN): http://www.poeticbyway.com/gl-r.html
•••Rondelet: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/rondelet-poetic-forms
•••Ryūka: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ryūka
•••Split Sequence: http://www.hsa-haiku.org/frogpond/2022-issue45-1/essay.html
•••Tanka: poets.org/glossary/tanka
•••Vignette Form: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/vignette-form
•••Word-Can Poem: putting random words on slips of paper into a can, then drawing out a few and making a poem out of them
__________________
—Medusa
Today's Ekphrastic Challenge!
Make what you can of today's
picture, and send your poetic results to
kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.)
* * *
—Photo Courtesy of Public Domain
Make what you can of today's
picture, and send your poetic results to
kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.)
* * *
—Photo Courtesy of Public Domain
For info about
future poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
during the week.
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column; or find previous poets
by typing the name of the poet or poem
into the little beige box at the top
left-hand side of today’s post; or go to
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom of
the blue column at the right
to find the date you want.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
at the Placating the Gorgon link;
send poetry and/or photos and artwork
to kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
future poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
during the week.
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column; or find previous poets
by typing the name of the poet or poem
into the little beige box at the top
left-hand side of today’s post; or go to
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom of
the blue column at the right
to find the date you want.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
at the Placating the Gorgon link;
send poetry and/or photos and artwork
to kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
